Darkness Hunts (Dark Angels 4)

Was “private dining” a euphemism for the werewolf section? I guessed I’d find out soon enough. I followed the willowy waitress through the main bar and up the stairs. The third floor held the wolf club, if the strengthening smell of sex and lust was anything to go by, but we didn’t stop there. We went on, up to the fourth floor, then along a corridor that had darkly stained wood-panel doors at regular intervals. She stopped at the seventh one and knocked politely. “Your final guest has arrived, Mr. Dupont.”

“Please send her in,” Lucian replied, in a cool and authoritative tone. The high-end investment adviser, not the lover.

I wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or annoyed.

The woman keyed open the door and waved me inside. As the door closed behind me, I paused and looked around. I’d half expected some sort of private boudoir, but it was actually set up as a plush but comfortable dining room. A mahogany table dominated the space but, oddly, there were only two chairs. Maybe dark sorcerers didn’t eat. Or maybe I wasn’t invited to eat. He might be taking the “behave yourself” request to a whole new level.

And that would definitely be annoying. I mean, just because I was angry that he’d forced intercourse one time to read my mind, that didn’t mean I never wanted to partake of his particular brand of loving again.

The scent of sex was heavier in the room than in the hallway outside, but it was oddly entwined with the sharpness of blood. I frowned and glanced toward the end of the room, which seemed to be the source of the scents. The entire width of the wall was covered by heavy red velvet curtains. I was half tempted to walk over to see what they were hiding but resisted, and scanned the rest of the room instead. The remaining walls were paneled in dark wood, once again giving the impression of something you’d see in a gentlemen’s club. A bar dominated the other end of the room, and it was against this that Lucian leaned. He gave me a wide smile when my gaze met his, but it was his companion who caught my attention.

Because it wasn’t a man, like I’d been expecting. And—for one fleeting moment—she seemed very familiar. But before I could figure out who it was she reminded me of, she turned fully around and the moment was gone. All I saw was a stranger.

She was a tall, full-bodied—almost matronly—woman, with angular features and dark hair cut close to her head. Her nose was large and Roman, and gave her an arrogant air. But it was her eyes that sent shivers skating across my skin. They were a blue so pale it was almost impossible to separate the iris from the white. And in those pale depths, eons of knowledge seemed to glow.

Enough knowledge to steal a portal key, perhaps? Maybe, just maybe.

And yet this wasn’t the person who had stolen the key from under our noses. Not because the person who’d taken it had been a man—in truth, gender could temporarily be altered, whether by a glamour or by more basic means such as makeup and wigs. It was more that she didn’t feel the same. The man—the sorcerer—who had taken the key held an energy that was dark, ungodly, and bitter. This woman didn’t, although she didn’t exactly feel clean, either. There was a definite taint to the energy that poured off her, but it was more an uneasy vibration of something not quite right than anything truly dark.

“Risa.” Lucian stepped in front of me, effectively blocking my view of the stranger. “You look divine, as usual.”

“It’s just a black dress, and there’s very little flesh on show.”

And for a very good reason—I still had too many bruises. Old ones, as well as the new one my father had given me. Divine didn’t give me enough coverage; this simple shift, with its high neckline, did.

“Ah, but it skims your curves delightfully, and teases the imagination. That is extremely sexy to those with good imaginations.” He kissed both cheeks, every action overly polite.

I raised an eyebrow in silent query. He grinned and said in a low voice, “You did warn me I needed to be on my best behavior if I ever wanted to get into your bed again.”

“Yes, but I didn’t exactly expect such immediate and polite compliance.”

“Why not? It is, after all, to my benefit if I do.” He swung around, offered me an arm, then said in a more normal voice, “Let me introduce you to our guest.”

He escorted me toward the bar. The stranger’s gaze flickered down my body and it felt like I was standing there naked, being judged inside and out. Her expression seemed to say I’d been found wanting. And that, unsurprisingly, was something of a relief. The last thing I wanted was to attract the interest of someone who dealt with the dark forces of this world on any level other than that of hunting them.

Not that the man who did hunt them had been sighted for the last few hours. Which suggested Azriel had taken to heart my snarky wish that they’d all leave me in peace and was keeping watch from a distance rather than up close and personal.

Lucian waved a hand in the stranger’s direction. “Risa Jones, Lauren Macintyre.”

“Evening.” Lauren’s voice was mellow and soft, the opposite of what I’d been expecting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Jones.”

She held out her hand. My pause was brief, but nevertheless there, and something flickered through her eyes. Not amusement. Something deeper. Darker.

The fingers that wrapped around mine were long and warm, her grip strong. But there was nothing untoward in her touch, no dark shimmer or foul feel, despite that flicker in her eyes and the vibrations that continued to roll off her.

“Would you like a drink?” Lucian walked around the bar. “We have wine, beer, and champagne.”

“Champers, please.” I propped on a barstool and returned Lauren’s gaze steadily. “I’m gathering Lucian has told you the reason I wished to see you?”

A small smile touched her lips, though little amusement reached her ice-colored eyes. “A woman who gets straight down to business. I like that.”

“I told you she was a no-nonsense person.” Lucian slid a glass of bubbly toward me, then leaned on the bar.

Desire slithered through me, quick and hungry. I took a drink and tried to keep my attention on the sorcerer, not the lover.

And wondered, even as I did so, why the hell he affected me so strongly. He might be Aedh, and able to ensnare lovers with just a kiss, but this was something else. Something that was almost darker.

And that was worrying.